Little Tree
by sophiaexile
Summary: Drusilla in her bordom seeks out Willow only to find her still in mourning over Terra, and her new place in the world. Drusilla offers comfort, and before either of them know it a relationship forms that transcends life itself.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any for the works mentioned or characters used therein. They are the property of the author and as of such, I do not seek to profit by their property, or to gain acclaim from them.

Chapter 1

Drusilla gazed languidly at the wall. She was bored of her new dolly. She pouted at the thought of how disappointing he was. He broke so easily. Like matchsticks. Thinking about matchsticks made Drusilla wonder how well Xander would burn. Then Spike came into the room.

"Spike, I'm bored."

Spike frowned slightly and then sighed. "Pet, you have a new doll. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Drusilla pouted. "He's boring, Spike. He breaks so easily." Then she grinned. "Like matchsticks. Pretty burning matchsticks. Do you think he'll burn well? Like wood or cloth or maybe melt?"

Drusilla got up from the bed and twirled around the room. "Burning flesh, I love the smell of it. Spike, may I burn him?"

Spike sat down on the bed and watched Drusilla's long dress twirl and dip as she moved restlessly around the room. So beautiful was all he could think. Absently he answered her, as he was distracted by the way the cloth clung to her breasts. "Whatever you want Dru, whatever you want."

Drusilla turned around abruptly and then seemed to loose her train of thought. "I want a new dolly. Xander doesn't scream so burning him won't be fun. I want the little tree."

Spike sighed. He knew this was coming. Keeping Dru cooped up after their flight from the Romanian mob was not easy. She was a restless creature and she longed for the hunt once more. Bring her fresh caught blood was not enough. No, when Drusilla got bored her mind wandered down dark and twisted paths. She longed for someone to suffer in her boredom with her. And well, kidnapping Willow Rosenberg would not be easy. Kidnapping that stupid bumbling boy Xander had been hard enough, what with Buffy being so paranoid and all. Now the Slayer would be even more paranoid now that her chum had gone missing.

Drusilla had been "playing" with Xander for three weeks now. That was the longest any of her so-called dolls had lasted. The boy had stamina, but Dru was damn right that nancy boy was boring. No screaming, just crying and whimpering. What kind of man was he? No screaming? What the bloody hell? You would think that after being flogged for three straight hours nancy boy would scream already. Sure the smell of blood was enticing, but Drusilla was beyond having her boredom satisfied by blood alone. She needed to stalk her prey, lure them, play and kill. It was Dru's set hunting pattern and he had interrupted it with this house arrest he had put her under. This was getting bothersome. Either he had to go out and get "little tree" or he would be facing his Sire's wrath. Or…

"Pet, why don't you go hunting for her?"

Drusilla stopped humming the song she had been thinking about while waiting for Spike's response to look at him. "Daddy is going to let the little girl go play?"

Spike mentally sighed with relief. Dru was distracted; thank G-d bloody almighty, whoever the bloody hell he/she/it was. "Yes pet, go get her." Drusilla squealed in delight and immediately ran out of the room.

"A tisket, a tasket, I lost my yellow basket. But I don't want a yellow basket. I want red. Warm, oozing, sweet, yummy red. Dripping over my fingers and…" Drusilla squealed again. "A tisket, a tasket, I want a red basket filled with…little tree!"

Drusilla pressed herself against an oak tree and sighed with relish. To be able to stalk and play and pounce again. It was so delightful. She looked through the window of Buffy Summer's house hoping to see the pretty little tree. No red hair in sight. "So sad. Where would a little tree go?"

Drusilla brought her fingers together and started to fidget. "Tree, pretty tree. Where did you go? Did you go to play with the earth so cold beneath the dirt? Did you go the house of dead trees to smell the ink fresh off the press? Did you go to find you little Xander who doesn't scream?"

Drusilla contemplated these options. All of them were valid, but only one made sense. The little tree had gone to mourn the earth that had been shot. The earth with the golden hair who made the little tree smile. What was the earth's name? Terra. Like terra firma or was it just dirt? Dirt had worms in it so why would the little tree want dirt? As Drusilla's mind wandered she made her way to the cemetery with Terra was buried, where the little tree Willow was sure to be.

Willow Rosenberg mourned. Terra had been gone a year or two now. Why the bullet hit Terra and not her she would ever know. She would have survived the bullet. She was the more powerful witch, but her Terra… "Terra! Why did you leave me? Why? We were so good together! You made me a better woman, a better person. "

Willow burst into tears. She had not been with anyone besides one of the young slayers, but that could not come close to her connection with Terra. Terra was her world and now…. What was there for her?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any for the works mentioned or characters used therein. They are the property of the author and as of such, I do not seek to profit by their property, or to gain acclaim from them.

Chapter 2

Drusilla couldn't help, but wonder what was so wonderful about the earth in the dirt. The earth with the golden, pretty hair was a weak, pesky thing that was only good for eating. Or playing. Yes, playing. That was what she was here for, right? To play with the little tree.

Yet, Drusilla found herself in a position that she rarely was in: she felt compassion for Willow Rosenberg. She longed to make the little tree try to smile again. Which was odd because smiles broke so easily. Just like glass and limbs. And dollies. Dollies always break. But the little tree was too pretty to break. And far, far too sad. Little tree needed to stop crying.

Drusilla found herself moving towards Willow slowly and carefully. As she got closer Willow turned around abruptly and stared at her in shock. What was Drusilla of all people doing here? There was only one conclusion to draw: Drusilla was here to kill her. In her grief-addled mind Willow didn't think to blast Drusilla with a spell. She just started to run. Of course that didn't work.

Drusilla caught her easily and pinned her to the nearest mausoleum. "Little trees should not cry so much. Little tree is too pretty to cry. You are making mommy very, very sad."

She reached out and stroked Willow's face gently. "So pretty. Smiles are much better. Smiles are sunshine and music. Trees are made of sunshine."

Willow stared in shock. "What do you want with me," she whispered in a terrified voice.

"Mummy wants to make the little tree smile again. The earth is cold, cold, cold. The sun will not make her warm again. She is gone. Gone. The little tree needs to walk away from the earth."

Willow was ablaze with anger. How dare this insane, yet gorgeous female vampire tell her to move on? Wait a second… When did Drusilla become so appealing?

"What would you know about love? You evil! You are cruel! You torture people for fun!"

Drusilla looked into her eyes and sighed. "Mummy and Daddy died. They are cold too. Daddy ripped their throats out. The pretty ladies in the little church are gone too. Daddy killed them too. Mummy loved her family and the pretty ladies, but they are long gone. Mummy had to move on because the stars said so. They whisper. Whisper."

Willow actually felt pity for the beautiful vampire before her. Drusilla was a sad creature. She never asked to be a monster. Angel or rather Angelus had done that to her. Maybe she could be a nice person, just, well insane. It was odd though. Everyone had told her to move on, but unlike Drusilla they had been harsh about it. Even Xander had seemed tired of her grief, but now he was gone too.

Drusilla took Willow into her arms and stroked her hair gently. "There, there, pretty little tree. I will take care of you. Mummy loves you. Mummy wants you to smile. Little tree deserves to be happy. Bad, bad things hurt us, but we drift, drift away to laughter and kisses. Do you want a kiss?"

Willow looked up at her with startled expression. "What?"

"Do you want a kiss, little tree? You like kisses, don't you? Kisses are good. The earth kissed you and you smiled. If Mummy kisses you, you will smile."

Willow couldn't believe she was even contemplating accepting Drusilla's offer. But maybe…

"Yes. I want a kiss, Drusilla. Kiss me."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any for the works mentioned or characters used therein. They are the property of the author and as of such, I do not seek to profit by their property, or to gain acclaim from them.

Chapter 3

Drusilla kissed Willow. She couldn't help it. Maybe it was her loneliness. Or maybe it was because she understood the little tree. The little tree had walked paths of darkness, paths of great beauty, and mystery. Yet, that foolish bunch of humans had been scared of her, just like they had in the old days. They didn't burn Willow. They said they _loved_ her. Drusilla knew what _that_ kind of love entailed. It was the love made out of silk, and lies, the self-deceiving murmurs the good tell themselves. Out of habit or memory they tried to love what they feared, but by fearing the poor little tree they hurt her.

The Watcher's Council, and the Slayers had always been little slippery snakes. Snakes that hissed words that stabbed, and poisoned like the assassin in the dark. Come to think of it, all of the supposed good were assassins of what they considered bad. But, bad was relative, like how diamonds were carbon, but they were considered precious. Or how people were considered mad, but were truly wise. They had told the little tree she was bad, bad, bad. Even the little golden earth had said that.

How could they? Witches, and seers of Willow's caliber were so rare, and extremely special. All the so-called monsters understood that. Of course the humans who feared the unknown never would believe that. As Willow reached out to her, Drusilla let her mind return to the present. In her head she told the stars to shut up, or she would kill them. They shut up.

Willow couldn't believe she was kissing a vampire. Actually, she couldn't believe she was kissing Drusilla. Drusilla, the alluring dark lady in white, the mysterious mad seer with blood on her hands. A part of Willow had always admired Drusilla, but she hadn't truly looked at her with kindness. How could she? She was what she had been told was evil. But was she? Could evil really be so black, and white? And could a creature, no a woman who offered such comfort be evil?

Something happened in that moment as they kissed. Neither of them could truly understand it. As they explored one another's mouths, a sound that was soft, and ringing pulsed inside them. The world had stopped. Time stopped. Completion. Nirvana. The moment seemed too perfect, a divine gift from some heavenly being. Then the moment faded as the kiss ended.

Willow felt euphoric, yet confused. She had kissed three people in her life. Terra had always topped the list. But this… This kiss seemed to make Terra's pale in comparison. It was almost like what she had shared with Terra had become a caricature of this moment with Drusilla. It wasn't even the physical aspect of the kiss that unique. It was a deep kiss with tongue, and teeth, but the feelings it had generated, the way the world had stilled… In that moment Drusilla eclipsed Tarra, and that for some reason was not as distressing as she thought it would be.

Drusilla pulled away as dazed as Willow appeared to be. It was a kiss, a pretty, wet taste of spice. Spices that were fire, and reminded her of the lights that graced the sky. The lights were singing, singing little joyful songs, and the whispers were humming. Kisses were only supposed to be for forgetting the stars, and the whispers. Spike was the giver of forgetfulness, of freedom. Were kisses supposed to be different?

Willow let Drusilla hold her. She let the peace wash over her. Drusilla was soft, and secure. In her hair she saw the night, and her eyes the vastness of the world. Who knew she could be so poetic? She certainly didn't. Willow started to grin despite the confusion she felt. She wanted to sing, and laugh.

Drusilla held Willow for a long time as she recovered. The little tree seemed calmer now. Little tree was so pretty. Little tree was blood and chocolate. And the stars whispered softly. They were saying lovely things. Little tree was hers. Little tree was meant to be her childe. Little tree needed her, and she needed little tree. Happy things like puppies and little pebbles were coming. Little shiny pebbles that were like tears. Or blood. Or smiles. Smiles. Little tree was smiling!

"You are happy?"

"Yes," breathed Willow, "You have made me very happy, Drusilla. Thank you."

Drusilla smiled. "If Mummy said she wanted little tree forever, and forever, would little tree come with her?"

Willow stepped back to absorb the information. She briefly noticed an acute pain as she separated from Drusilla. What did she have to anchor her to the Scoobys now? Life had changed so drastically for her that it had become odd to be with them. No one, not even Buffy, could truly understand where her powers took her after Terra's death. No one could feel what she felt, or understand how close she was to seeing beyond the world she lived in. She was detached from their reality, but not Drusilla's.

Drusilla lived in a world outside where Willow had come from. She lived in prophecy and immortality. Drusilla walked dimensions, and times Willow had only just begun to grasp. Even if Drusilla was an insane vampire, she did understand Willow in an odd way. She knew what it meant to be part of one world, and yet not fully part of it. Her mind took her places only the stars saw, and maybe Willow saw it just a bit. Her path was crooked, but sure.

The most important thing was that Drusilla had been the only one to offer what everyone else had not: love. In her own way Drusilla freely gave of herself to make Willow smile. Drusilla had brought her back to life in a sense, gave her a taste of sweet dreams and promises of happiness. Willow had never been one to make rash decisions when it came to relationships, but somehow this felt right. It was a betrayal of everything she had been before, but she would be damned if she let this moment end. Screw them all! Let them worry about her! Let them fear her! She deserved happiness after this screwed up life she had fallen into.

"Yes, I will come with you."

Willow took Drusilla's hand and did not look back. She couldn't, not now. Drusilla looked at her with a delighted expression her face. "We are together forever, little tree."

Willow smiled softly. "If we are to be together forever, call me Willow."

"Willow," murmured Drusilla, "Willow. The weeping one. The patient one. The powerful, wise one who sees. The lady of sweetness and dreams. The healer and the protector. Yes, you are Willow. Willow. My Willow."


End file.
